A Lighter View
Sense of scents
By K.E.H. Stagg

April 8, 2010

The people who come up with color names must be the same people who create scent names, since the names conjur up something totally different from what they really are. For example, I’d expect the color “tropical paradise” to be a blue similar to the ocean in Polynesia. Silly me! It’s a flaming orangey-pink color, which probably is meant to match the sunset in the tropics.

What about the scent named “tropical paradise”? If it were the coconut smell of suntan lotion, that wouldn’t be a huge surprise. Frankly, I don’t know that the odor of Windex screams “tropical paradise” to me, but then, I’m not in the business of naming scents. “Beach breeze” is another name scent that puts me in mind of Windex, which I have never associated with beaches, nor have I thought it would make a good air freshener or candle scent.

The part that cracks me up about aromas with names like “sandy beaches” is that there’s no trace of sand or palm tree smells which, honestly, would stump a genius to reproduce, but nor is there even a whiff of salt water, fish or seaweed, at least one of which is present at every beach I’ve ever visited.

Imaginary odors—“line-dried linen” and “sultry summer”--don’t smell remotely linen-ish or summery. Fruity smells like “peach orchard” and “blueberry bush” remind me of a brand of perfume popular in my childhood. I recall the plastic hippo pin that flipped open to reveal the odiferous cream, which smelled like a distillation of overpowering anesthesia.

And why anyone bothers manufacturing a scent that is supposed to imitate food is beyond me. Who thinks, “Yikes! This bathroom reeks! Wouldn’t it be great if this odor were overlaid with ‘fresh apple pie’?” Stinky garbage isn’t masked by “warm gingerbread”; the two simply compete, and pretty soon, gingerbread and garbage become inextricably intertwined associations.

The other downside of food smells is that spraying them around the room or burning them in a candle creates hunger pangs that some of us, quite frankly, could get along well without. Knowing how hard it is not to snack between meals, who’s going to sprtiz the house with “fresh baked cookies” or “tutti-frutti ice cream”?

Perhaps I’m just not imaginative enough to see the correlation between, say, “twining ivy” and lime. But as long as I don’t expect the name to bear any relation on the actual odor, I won’t be disappointed that “summer evening” doesn’t carry the pungent ammonia overtones of mosquito repellent and anti-itch ointment.